


In This Twilight, Our Choices Seal Our Fate

by Yevie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ferdinand joins the blue lions, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Inspired by Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 10:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevie/pseuds/Yevie
Summary: Ferdinand takes Hubert down in Enbarr but cannot bear to let him die.





	In This Twilight, Our Choices Seal Our Fate

**Author's Note:**

> So, [J.R. Doyle drew this amazing fan art](https://twitter.com/theyoungdoyler/status/1169863593656901632) and then tweeted that they couldn't decide which route it was set during. It gave me a lot of feelings and then I vomited this out. Please enjoy?
> 
> (Also, the title comes from Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons.)

Ferdinand is not shaking as he lifts up his axe. He does not take a shuddering breath. He does not see hurt in Hubert's pale green eyes. None of that, because none of that can matter. Edelgard must be stopped and Ferdinand must be the one to stop her. And, if he must cut down former friends (no, not friends, he and Hubert were never friends, never could have been friends) to do so, then so be it. So, he lifts up his axe and slashes right at Hubert's chest. 

But, it's clumsy, clumsy enough that Ferdinand can almost hear the correction the professor would have made. _Put your core into it, Ferdinand._

Hubert jumps back, face pale. His shoulder is bleeding from the arrow Ashe shot into it. For a moment, there's almost something akin to panic in Hubert's face, and then it vanishes. Ferdinand must have imagined it, really. Because, now, Hubert looks almost serene, mocking, even. "You still don't compare to Lady Edelgard." He raises his arms and sends forward waves of violet magic. 

Ferdinand's mount is the one who reacts in time, leaping out of the way, to the right of Hubert. Then Ferdinand sees an opening and let's his mind go blank as instinct takes over. In a blink, his axe cuts into Hubert's side and Hubert falls, crumpling down onto the ground.

"Hubert!" Someone shouts. Belatedly, Ferdinand realizes it was he who shouted. His breath is coming out in pants now as he watches Hubert's already pale skin turn ashen. _No. No. No. _This can't be right. It's not right. And it is right, because the battle will now cease. Without Hubert, Enbarr is all but theirs. Edelgard has nearly lost. The world is nearly saved. Ferdinand has nearly saved it. And yet, no.

Leaping off his horse, Ferdinand crouches next to Hubert. The man is bleeding out too fast. Ferdinand is no mage. There are no mages other than Hubert nearby, but Ferdinand cannot let Hubert die.

"Hubert," he says, scooping up his former ally.

"Don't bother..." Hubert breathes out. It doesn't escape Ferdinand that Hubert is still dangerous, still more than capable of magic. He could murder Ferdinand out of spite, a death for a death.

"Shh..." Ferdinand soothes and gets them both on his horse. He might be making this worse by jostling Hubert like this, might be speeding up his blood loss. It likely is already too late. Not many survive Ferdinand's axe. But to leave Hubert there, to let his body grow cold and let him be forgotten on the battlefield is not something Ferdinand can bring himself to do.

He turns to Ashe. "Where is Mercedes," Ferdinand asks, not bothering with an explanation.

Ashe simply stares.

There is no time for this. "Mercedes, do you know where she is?" Ferdinand demands.

Ashe swallows, "Last I saw her was back by the opera house, but Ferdinand--" 

Ferdinand doesn't bother listening to the end of the statement. It's not very noble of him, but then, he is but a former noble now, is he not? He has no titles and if he's honest, it's almost a relief to no longer be so tied to his father. But all that is idle thought for when Hubert is no longer bleeding out against his chest.

He presses forward through the city, keeping his eyes off the bodies littered across the ground. There might be a familiar face or two there, he'd spent so much time in Enbarr before the war. But he can't save those faces.

"What do you hope to gain from this?" Hubert hisses. "Without Lady Edelgard--" 

"Do not waste your strength," Ferdinand cuts him off, as much because an argument is the last thing Hubert needs right now as because Ferdinand cannot hope to answer the question truthfully. There is nothing to gain. And perhaps he is being selfish here. Hubert's fate, should he survive, would be to stand trial and then execution. Hubert cannot be allowed to live, not if peace is to be maintained.

Ferdinand knows how futile this is, how stupid, and yet, he keeps going, not meeting the eyes of his allies as he races past them. He's always been a bit of an outsider in this army anyhow. A defector from the Empire, a traitor who might betray again. He knows some felt he'd joined them out of spite, because he'd hated Edelgard, because she'd stripped his father of his titles.

Perhaps that is what Hubert assumes about him as well. They were never really friends. They had tea and coffee together, argued, played chess until dawn one memorable occasion, but they were never friends. How could they have been when Hubert would only let his walls down to Edelgard? That Ferdinand sometimes let himself have an idle daydream about Hubert showing him such loyalty was inconsequential, silly, a boyhood crush.

Ferdinand does eventually find Mercedes. As the battle is drawing to a close, she has turned her sights onto healing the wounded who come to find her. There's a growing crowd, and next to her Annette is directing some of the other soldiers to help set up a makeshift infirmary.

"Mercedes, please," Ferdinand says as he shoves through those waiting.

Mercedes turns, and at first she looks like she is ready to give him one of her gentle scoldings, but then her eyes turn to Hubert and she says, "Oh," in that quiet, airy voice of hers.

Stepping forward, Mercedes places a hand on Hubert and they both glow faintly. Color returns to Hubert's face and then he turns to glare at Mercedes.

"He needs more care," Mercedes says, paying Hubert no mind. "Annette, can you set up a cot?" 

While Annette makes provisions, Mercedes helps get Hubert down. She ignores the way he glares, doesn't look a Ferdinand strangely, is simply calm through it all. Ah, yes, her brother had been the Death Knight, hadn't he? She'd been the one to take him down in the end. Maybe she sees herself in Ferdinand.

While Mercedes treats Hubert, Ferdinand is left to pace. Annette shoos him away, eventually and Ferdinand wants to lash out. But he refuses to behave like less than he is, even if he is not certain exactly what he is now. He wants to curl up in despair, or perhaps to be like a character in an opera and sing his sorrows to the world. Dorothea would probably be able to compose him the most beautiful lyrics. Dorothea, who stayed loyal to the Empire and might be dead right now.

Drawing his knees to his chest, Ferdinand begins to weep - for Hubert, for his former schoolmates and even for Edelgard. He had not turned traitor because he hated her. He had simply felt that was the only way to do his duty.

When he next opens his eyes, the world is dark and there's a hand on his shoulder. Had he drifted off? Looking up, he sees Mercedes.

"Hubert, is he... does he live?"

Squeezing his shoulder, Mercedes nods.

Ferdinand leaps to his feet. Mercedes yelps. "Sorry," Ferdinand still has the sense to say. "I must see him." He bolts past her, into the sprawl of tents that make up the infirmary. Hubert is just a face among the masses. He has either not been recognized or anyone who has recognized him has not had the energy to care. That doesn't matter to Ferdinand in the moment. 

He kneels down next to Hubert, muttering, "You bastard."

Hubert's pale eyes open and his lips twist into something that is neither a smile nor a frown. "It seems like I should be the one saying that to you." 

Ferdinand laughs, eyes wet with fresh tears. "You are not allowed to die." 

Hubert raises a brow, not saying what they both know. As they wait, Dimitri's army is preparing to storm the palace, to defeat Edelgard. Hubert is still willing to die trying to stop them. He would throw away his life for Edelgard again and Ferdinand cannot change that.

"Please," Ferdinand says. "Please, there is nothing more you can do for her."

Turning his head away, Hubert says, "Perhaps."

Arguments bubble up and die on Ferdinand's lips. He knows how all of them might end. There is no talking Hubert out of his loyalty. So, instead, Ferdinand says, "I wish things could be different."

"Do you now?"

"It would be nice to have tea with you once more. Or perhaps another round of chess. A draw was not the most satisfying of conclusions."

"Such petty dreams you have." 

"I wish you would pick me over her."

Now Hubert laughs or coughs, it's hard to tell. "You haven't changed at all."

"Neither have you." Lifting his hand up, Ferdinand lets it hover near the sweat damp hair that covers half of Hubert's face. Then, when Hubert does not flinch away, he brushes it aside. Such a pretty green those eyes are, like the first pale leaves after a long winter. 

They stay, with Ferdinad's hand against Hubert's cheek for maybe moments or maybe hours, before Mercedes enters the tent. "Dimitri is asking for us." 

Ferdinand stands. He spares Hubert one last look before leaving the infirmary. Mercedes does not comment. They both know that if Hubert attempts to fight in his current state, he will easily be taken down before he can do much damage. Some tiny part of Ferdinand hopes that is not how Hubert will go down, that maybe Hubert has changed a bit after all. Such a silly hope. Ferdinand will likely only ever get one victory over Edelgard after all.


End file.
